


The Consequences of Assumption

by yosaffbridge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yosaffbridge/pseuds/yosaffbridge
Summary: Ron has been in love with Hermione for a long time, and he's paying the price for waiting too long to tell her.





	The Consequences of Assumption

_She's got a husband,_ he reminded himself for the millionth time that week. _And it's not me._

Ron ran a hand through his hair in frustration. _She's got a husband, and she says she's happy with him. So why the bloody hell did she keep…_ "ARGH!" he yelled, banging a fist on the table and causing the people at the table next to his to look at him oddly. "What?" he said irritably, and they quickly turned back to their dinners. Ron was still in his Quidditch gear from practice and it was an unspoken rule in Chudley that no one antagonize the players, especially so close to a match. Ever since the team had been almost completely replaced with new players, they'd actually got to a point where they were in the running for the League Cup, and no one was willing to do anything to jeopardise that, least of all when it concerned Ron, the team's star Keeper, who'd been instrumental in their success. No one, that is, except Hermione Granger-Boot.

Ron drained the last of his firewhiskey and stood, dropping a few coins on the table before trudging out of the bar, grabbing his winter cloak from the rack by the door on his way out. Normally, he would have Apparated straight back to his small flat in Diagon Alley, but he felt like walking a bit first to clear his head. He shoved his hands in his pockets, shoving the bit of parchment one held deeper inside.

The past two weeks marked the beginning of the longest stretch of time Ron had been home in over two years. After the war had ended shortly after leaving Hogwarts, Ron had been signed with the Cannons, and the new team had been kept quite busy playing and promoting themselves all over the world. He'd kept in touch with his family, and with Harry and Hermione, but his hectic work schedule left almost no time for visits home nor any kind of social life to speak of outside his teammates.

Ron swiped snow off of a bench and sat down, leaning back against the wall behind as he began remembering his time away. One person had occupied his thoughts above all others the entire time, and each time he was able to catch a weekend home he swore he'd tell her how he felt. But every time he visited, he'd think about how it would be unfair to her for him to confess something like that only to leave again for months. _I'll have some time off soon. I can tell her then, when I can do it right. We've time._ But then the owl came, a year and a half into his travels, with the invitation to Hermione's wedding to Terry Boot. Ron had known that she'd been dating him for a while, but he'd somehow convinced himself that it couldn't be that serious. That evening he'd gone and got more pissed than he'd ever been in his entire life.

The day before the wedding he raced home to England, intent on telling Hermione not to marry Boot because he, Ron, was in love with her and had been for a long time. But then he ran into the couple when he stopped by Harry's, and Hermione looked so completely happy that he couldn't bear to ruin that. _What I bloody deserve for assuming she'd still be available,_ Ron thought bitterly as he pulled his cloak tighter around him to ward off the chill from the night air. _What I bloody get for assuming she returned the feelings and would just wait to be mine one day._ Knowing Hermione would have realized something was wrong if he skipped the wedding, Ron had gone, and he'd felt his heart crumble as he'd watched the woman he loved pledging herself to another man. He'd thought that day that his chance had been lost forever. And yet now, six months later, everything had been turned on its head.

A few days after Ron had returned to England for what was to be a three-month hiatus for recuperation, Hermione had shocked the hell out of him by showing up at his flat. The fact that she came to his flat wasn't shocking – she'd just been there a couple of days before with Harry for a visit. What was shocking about it was that it was the middle of the night, and she was crying.

_The match against Puddlemere was in full swing, and Ron couldn't keep the smile from his face as he blocked goal after goal. He'd just pulled himself back on his broom after executing a perfect Starfish and Stick to block another goal when he saw Oliver Wood flying towards him. "Oi! Wood!" he called out, puzzled. "What're you doing down this end of the pitch?"_

_Wood didn't answer. Instead, he lifted the Beater's bat he was inexplicably holding and began to bonk Ron over the head with it, creating an odd knocking sound. "OI!" Ron yelled, trying to block Wood's blows, but he continued to swing, the knocking sound pounding into Ron's brain with every hit._

_Suddenly Ron awoke, his hand automatically going to his head. He lay there for a moment, allowing the fog in his mind to clear, when he realized the knocking he'd heard was actually someone knocking on the door – and they were still doing it. Wondering who it could possibly be at such a late hour and attempting to suppress the fear that something was terribly wrong, Ron yanked on pyjama bottoms and padded to the door. When he opened it to reveal a sobbing Hermione on the other side, his jaw nearly hit the floor. "Hermione? What the bloody – what's wrong? What's happened?" He stepped back to allow Hermione to come in, shutting the door and quickly stepping up behind her to help her out of her cloak. She was still crying, her shoulders shaking ever so slightly, and Ron took hold of her upper arms and turned her gently to face him. "Now what's this all about? You're worrying me," he said softly, a million different emotions flooding him as he looked down at the woman he'd loved for so long._

_Hermione pulled away abruptly with a sob, turning back towards the door, and Ron wondered if she was going to leave. She didn't, though – instead, she stood silently for a few moments, then turned back towards him and did not one, but two things he thought she'd never do. "Damn it, Ron!" she cried, and Ron's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Why did you have to come back_ now? _Why now, when I thought I'd finally got over-" She broke off and made a frustrated noise, and before Ron could say anything or even move, she'd launched herself at him and it was all Ron could do to keep from collapsing as her lips pressed against his. He froze in shock for a moment, then coherent thought flew out the window as he reacted, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and pulling her as close as possible. He was nearly overwhelmed by the warmth of her lips on his, the feel of her small, soft body pressed so close, the knowledge that she was finally in his arms after wanting him for so long._

_As abruptly as it had come, the feeling of exhilaration was yanked away as Hermione suddenly pulled back, stepping away from Ron and looking up at him with huge eyes. "Oh God, what have I done?" she whispered, one hand flying to her mouth. "I – oh God, Terry-" Ron frowned as she mentioned her husband, snapping back to reality at the reminder. Hermione pulled out her wand and made as though to Disapparate. "Oh, God. I should go. Terry's away on business…I shouldn't be here. I – I should just go."_

_Confusion and frustration filled Ron and he reached out to grab her hand before she could wave her wand and disappear. "Wait just a bloody minute, Hermione. What makes you think you can come here and do_ that _and then go haring off with no explanation? Just what do you think you're playing at?"_

_For a moment it was deathly silent. Then the smack rang out as Hermione's hand connected with Ron's cheek. He stared at her, completely gobsmacked, as she yelled, "You_ weren't there _!" And once again, before he could even move, Hermione had closed the distance between them. This time, there was no hesitation as Ron pulled her against him, returning her desperate kiss with equal passion. For several moments, he braced himself mentally for the inevitable push that would send her away from him, but when it didn't come, he gently broke the kiss himself, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, totally confused and a bit afraid of what she might do next. Then she whispered his name, a slightly pleading note to her voice, and Ron was lost._

_Later, after she'd finally left, Ron lay sprawled across his bed, his thoughts a jumbled mess. Hermione and he had finally…and now she was gone, back home to her husband. It had been everything Ron wanted and nothing he expected. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, wondering if he'd just gained the love of his life or lost one of the best friends he'd ever had._

That was a week and a half ago, and five times since then Hermione had arrived at his flat in similar fashion, though thankfully without tears and without slapping him again. Each time, he'd tried to get her to talk about her relationship with Boot, but all she would say was that Boot was a good man and she was happy with him. He'd tried to get her to explain why she kept coming back for more when she was apparently happy with her husband, and she would only kiss him softly and whisper, "Because it's you," before Disapparating with a soft pop.

Ron shivered as the wind picked up and he realized he'd been out far longer than he'd intended to. If he was honest with himself, he'd admit that he was avoiding going home because he was afraid Hermione would be there. It was around the time she normally showed up, and Ron knew if he arrived at his flat and she was there waiting, he wouldn't be able to say no. He didn't want to say no. And yet he despised himself for not being able to say no, because this was the woman he loved with every fibre of his being and yet he still had no idea why she kept coming back, or if she loved him even half as much as he loved her.

Finally, Ron decided it would be best to just get it over with and Apparated back to his flat. He appeared in the small living room with a pop, and the first thing he saw was a rather large trunk. A heartbeat later, Hermione walked into the room, and Ron tried not to think too much about what it might mean that Hermione had brought her trunk with her. "Erm…hi," he said awkwardly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

Hermione walked over to stand directly in front of him, worrying her lower lip, and took a deep breath. "I've left him. Happy is not enough. I thought it would be, but it's not. It's not enough and I don't want to go on deceiving myself, or you, or my husband any longer." She paused, and Ron could see that she was trying to hide how scared she was. "You weren't there, but I'm not going to dwell on that because you're here now, and I'm not going to let you leave me again." Ron opened his mouth to protest, thoughts of hectic touring schedules entering his mind immediately, but Hermione silenced him with a finger held up to his lips. "Wait. Let me finish." He nodded mutely, and she lowered her hand again. "I know what you've to do for your job, and I understand that. What I mean is that I'm not going to let you _leave_ me. When you first got the position with the Cannons and left without any kind of hint that you might return my feelings, I thought it meant I was in love alone." Ron's jaw dropped at the words 'in love', but Hermione kept going. "As the months passed and you never said a thing, never even hinted we could be more than friends, I decided it was too much to risk losing you completely. Terry really is a good man, and he really does make me happy. But now that you're here, and now that me apparently taking leave of my good senses has made me realize just how much I've been missing, I know that happy is not enough. I'm in love with _you_ , Ron. I have been for a long time, but in my idiocy I've only just now realised I can't go on with something less. I'm here because it's _you_ , and I'm never leaving again."

Ron stared at Hermione, his mouth opening and closing, but unable to speak. Hermione was in love with him. She'd left Boot. And she wanted to be with him, Ron. He wondered why he'd ever thought it was a good idea to hide his true feelings from her in the first place. His assumptions had broken his heart, and now that he had another chance to do what he should have done years before, Ron knew he wouldn't waste that chance for anything.

"Ron?" Hermione asked, touching his arm lightly, and Ron realized he'd been staring dumbfounded at her for several moments. "Please, say something…anything."

Instead, Ron pulled Hermione close and claimed her lips in a breathless kiss. When he finally pulled away, both of them were smiling. "It's always been you, Hermione. I've been a daft git," Ron whispered, resting their foreheads together. "I've been in love with you for a long time, and now that I've got you, I swear I'm never letting you go."

Hermione leaned up on tiptoe as if to whisper into his ear, and her breath was icy cold. Ron shivered as she trailed a finger along his cheek – her hands were freezing as well. He opened his mouth to ask her why she was so cold when the sound of a slamming door registered somewhere in the back of his mind, and he was jerked awake as someone stumbled into his knees, mumbling an apology as they passed by.

Ron sat up on the cold bench, his neck uncomfortably stiff from leaning against the wall. He ran his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the memory of his painfully vivid dream as he stood, raising his wand and finally Apparating back to his empty flat. He headed straight for the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Firewhiskey and going back to slump into an armchair, pulling out a rumpled piece of parchment from the pocket of his cloak as he did so and reading it for the hundredth time that day.

_Ron,_

_I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. It's not right, and it's not fair to you. I can't leave my husband. I love you, but I just can't._

_I'm sorry._

_Hermione_

Ron crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it across the room, anger, frustration and pain filling him once again. _What I bloody get for assuming,_ he thought miserably as he took a long drink from the bottle and stared at the tiny ball of parchment that had crushed his heart for good.


End file.
